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She shakes her head once, timidly shifting her gaze to the ground. "I don’t want to repeat it."
"Cassidy." I lift her chin and press my lips to hers quickly. Lingering close, I brush our mouths together as I speak. "Think about me. My fingers touching you. Pleasing you. Now tell me what he said that's keeping you from me."
Swallowing nervously, she takes a few moments to answer. "He said I'm weak and that men enter women. Like the devil does."
Fuck. I breathe raggedly. "You don't think you enter me?" I snap, but my aggression isn't meant for her.
She sucks another breath in. A strained breath. "He said you control me with my body. With this part of me."
I want to both howl in anger and burst into laughter at the pure inaccuracy of that statement. Leaning into her almost-pink hair, I speak into her ear. Her cheek moves into mine affectionately as I do. "Every time I come, I think about you. You're in my head." I breathe her in.Cassidy. She doesn't wear perfume; her scent is simply feminine. Clean. Natural. My breath on her neck causes her to gasp and then pant. "This soft wet skin." Gradually, I tunnel my fingers between her pussy lips, and her startled moans resonate in my cock. My other hand nearly spans the width of her slim back, pushing her trim abdomen forward and arching her the way I like. "These strong responsive muscles that grip me like a fist. The freckles on your inner thighs. Your smell. Taste. I don't control you, Cassidy. Nothing is further from the truth. You control me. My fingers. My lips. My cock." I shake my head against hers. "You own me, little one." She's crying now, so I pepper kisses all over her face, tasting the saltiness of her tears as if I were licking her wounds. "Control me, little one," I tell her.
She blinks at me for a moment, lips open and eyes hesitant. Understanding my gentle command, she swallows nervously and then begins to roll her little pelvis on my lap, stirring my fingers inside her tight, pulsing pussy. She stabilises herself with my shoulders, delicate fingers holding my tight muscles - tight with restraint.
She's tense, but with every forward wave of her hips, her expression becomes more captivated by the moment. I admire her body as her hips start to sway with a rhythm and grace like nothing I've ever seen before. My little ballerina dances on my fingers like it's an enchanting, beautiful act. And with her, it is. My cock strains with yearning in my trousers. Needing to fuck her. Feeling possessive and in need of reassurance she's still mine, I press my teeth together to stop from growling the following words. Instead, I demand gently, "Whose fingers are inside you?"
The tops of her pert milky-white tits flush as heat spreads across her skin. "Max's." She pants my name. Leaning in, I take her taut, aroused nipple into my mouth, my teeth gripping it through the little singlet she's wearing. Groaning at the feel of her rolling body and circling hips, I suck on that tiny bud. Her sweet breast is so perky, so pointed - perfection. When I twist my fingers against her rhythm, I feel her buck slightly with pleasure.
"Max." She whimpers my name.
"Max who?" I press.
"Max Butcher."
"Tell me you love me," I order, not understanding or analysing why I want to hear it, but goddamn-it, I do.
"I love you, Max." Little whimper-mixed moans leave her parted pink lips, so I swallow those sounds, but although muffled, they only get louder as I steal her breath.
While I finger her slowly, she responds to my penetration, sucking my fingers in and kneading me out with those strong internal muscles of hers. "What do you want?"
She starts to shake. "More."
Using my thumb, I press down on her sweet little clit, massaging it back and forth while the two fingers inside her work at a steady pace. "You feel so good wrapped around my fingers, little one."
Her lips are soft and confused as they strain to kiss me and moan and pant simultaneously. Her body starts to tremble, and I break our kiss to watch her little tits jiggle beneath white fabric and her face come apart with pleasure.
"You're so fucking beautiful."
Her pussy locks onto my fingers. My cock pulses. Anticipating her recoil from the orgasm thrashing through her, I grab the side of her throat and squeeze lightly, holding her down so she remains deeply impaled on my fingers. As I curl them onto that spot twitching inside her, she cries out loudly. Fuck me if she isn't the sexiest thing I've ever seen. How she can look so incredibly sweet - innocent - while purring out her orgasm on my lap like a little kitten, I do not know.
My fingers continue to fuck her, drawing her orgasm out. Not giving up my repetitive motion, I wring every last sensation from her. And goddamn it if I'm not in physical pain with the need to bury my cock deep inside her. Feeling her orgasm on my fingers, her body vibrating, overwhelmed, I groan through gritted teeth in unison with her peaking cries.
When she finally stops shaking and the pleasure she was just riding flattens, she stares blankly at me.
My brows draw in tight at the sight of her blinking, confused expression.
That's not good.
Then her eyes widen with uncertainty. She's breathing like she's just run a marathon, and it's now apparent to me that this is a fucking bad thing. Averyfucking bad thing.
Clenching my jaw, I pull my fingers from inside her. "Cassidy, what's that look?"
While my breaths mingle with anger at the crumbling state of the girl on my lap, hers are all of a sudden short. Quick. Shallow.
Panicked.
I sit up and cup her cheeks while her eyes bounce around in a kind of stupor. "Little one?"
"I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine," she chants, but tears burst from the corners of her eyes. Fucking tears. And fuck me does the sight of them slice me up.
